Dragon of Central Perk (Exiled Dragons Book 11)

by Sarah J. Stone

  “So, that leaves things open,” Desmond said, his face set. “Really, we have no idea what we are up against.”

  “Three Tiro-Maestro teams?” Sybil answered. “It doesn't matter what we are up against.”

  As they continued to walk, Sienna attempted to reach out to Nathaniel again and again. But without breaking through the wall that had almost made her faint, she couldn't find anything useful. Desmond put a hand on her shoulder.

  “Stop,” he said. “That will do no good.”

  “But why would he block us out?” she protested. “It's not like him. He always finds a way to connect, even if it's through a back route. Somebody must have control of his mind.”

  “No,” Desmond said. “You would be able to feel that when you went in.”

  She was silent for a moment, and then looked up to him. “This is normal life,” she said, and he looked confused.

  “What?”

  “This,” she said. “Assignments, battles, death. This is normal life.”

  “And what do you think of that?” he asked, trying to get the point she was making. “Do you want it to be normal life?”

  “I don't know,” she answered truthfully. “I don't know where I fit.”

  He slung an arm around her gently in an unusual display of affection. Perhaps it was the situation – the fact that two of his former Tiros were nearby and both were potentially in danger.

  “You fit here,” he assured her, and she smiled at him. Even if she didn't believe the words that he said, she felt comforted by the fact that he believed them.

  It wasn't long before they found the warehouse. Sienna had watched as the area became more run-down, and the people surrounding the buildings started to size them up.

  “That's it,” she said to Sybil, trying not to point.

  “Right. East, North, South,” Sybil said assigning the teams. “I don't know if I can reach out to all of you, but I can try.”

  “I can do it,” Sienna spoke up, wanting to feel useful. “I can reach out to everyone's mind to coordinate our attacks.”

  “Sienna…” Desmond said, and she looked up to him.

  “Please. It's the only thing I can do. And it's Nathaniel.”

  “Nathaniel, may I point out, will not let you do this,” Desmond answered. “But all right. Don't push hard, though. All we need is a countdown.”

  “Yes,” she agreed, although she knew she would likely have to push harder than she let on. The teams split up, and Desmond and Sienna took the south entrance. Their keen ears could hear voices inside, and her heart began to pound. She had been calm until they got here, trusting that Nathaniel could watch out for himself. She trusted that her younger Maestro had a plan about what was going to happen. Now, she wasn't so sure.

  Desmond leaned up against the door, listening. He was waiting for a moment where they quieted down enough to distinguish through footsteps and sounds how many were inside. He didn't want to reach out with magic in case they were witches, who would surely sense in ping.

  Sienna waited for what felt like an eternity. Finally, her Maestro caught her eye and nodded.

  “Now,” he said, and Sienna reached out to the others quickly.

  ‘Go!’

  Everyone slammed through the doors, their magic working quickly to unhinge locks and push open bolts.

  The team inside looked completely surprised to see them. Sienna had a sense of pride for a moment; they had tricked them; they had succeeded.

  That is, until she saw her Maestro, strung up against the wall, his hands chained. His nose was broken, which was the pain that she had felt initially. His eyes were bruised nearly closed, but they forced themselves open.

  His eyes widened when he saw her, and his gagged mouth tried to speak.

  ‘Get out,’ his thoughts pushed into her. ‘Get out.’

  Sienna froze, and then she heard the thoughts he pushed to both of them.

  ‘It's Sienna they want.’

  Desmond spun into action right away, grabbing her arm, and pushing her in between Sybil and himself. His hands were out, the magic springing from them as three brown aliens began to approach, a delighted look in their eyes.

  “Sienna,” one said, his voice like scratching wallpaper. “The witch with everything.”

  “The witch they will pay high prices for.”

  “The witch we can't ignore.”

  “We knew you'd come.”

  “NOT TODAY!” Sybil was the one who shot first, a powerful blast of magic coming from her hands. Sienna watched in awe as Kierry fired as well, her magic intertwining her Maestro's in a perfectly timed attack.

  Sienna could never do that without feeling it for days. She knew that Maestros and Tiros could, of course, but she had rarely seen it in practice.

  The aliens flew back with a scream. Clearly, they hadn't planned their attack very well. They had thought, perhaps, that only Sienna would come for Nathaniel. Three against one was hard, but three against six wasn't even a notch on someone's belt.

  Before they could even retaliate, they were nothing but corpses, falling to the ground.

  Chapter 10

  Sienna ran toward Nathaniel, oblivious to his injuries as Desmond disconnected the chains. His feet touched the ground, and his knees buckled, but he managed to right himself as Sienna threw her arms around him.

  “You all right?” Desmond asked gruffly.

  Nathaniel snorted. “Oh yeah, fine,” he said, as Sienna squeezed him. “Little one, it's all right,” he said in alarm at her sudden rush of emotions. “I'm fine. We're together.”

  “But you could have not been!” she cried. “You could have been gone.”

  “I'm not,” Nathaniel blocked out the rest of the world to look her in the eye. Desmond was impressed with his focus through his injuries. He could feel Nathaniel's heart rate was skyrocketing, but his former Tiro's every thought was calming his own Tiro. “I'm here.”

  “Wow,” Sybil said softly, standing beside Desmond. He knew exactly what she was referring to.

  “She's never been apart from him,” he answered. “Especially not like this.”

  Sybil smiled. “Well, it's nice to see, at last.” She raised her voice. “Are you all right, oh classmate of mine in constant messes?”

  “I'm fine,” Nathaniel finally answered, displaying more strength as he tried to straighten up.

  “What happened?” Desmond asked, and Nathaniel shook his head.

  “I don't even know. One moment, I was making my way through the streets and the next, it was blackness.”

  “Magical?” Desmond asked, and Nathaniel shook his head.

  “I don't know. I think it was chemical, so someone should probably run my blood. But when I woke up here, all they could talk about was….” He didn't need to finish the thought.

  “Why do they want me?” Sienna filled in for him, still unwilling to leave his side. “What did I do?”

  “It's not what you did,” Desmond tried to assure her. “It's what you can do.”

  She glanced to the floor. “I can't do anything,” she said. “Not well.”

  “You are capable of so much more,” Desmond reminded her. “And it's not a surprise that more than just the Academy knows about you.”

  “We should tag their bodies,” Sybil said. “Bring them back. I can ask around on the streets to see if anyone knows them.”

  “This isn't Reynolds' work?” Kierry spoke up.

  “No,” Sybil was quick to recognize that. “It certainly is not. These aliens…I've never seen them around. I suspect there's another force at work here, one that we don't recognize yet.”

  “Wait!” Devon, ever observant, neared them. He recognized a symbol tattooed on their arms, all of the marks identical on their right shoulders. “Look, Laura.”

  She tore her eyes away from Nathaniel long enough to glance at her Tiro. Her eyes narrowed. “That's Black Caesar's mark.”

  “What?” Sybil went over right away. Nathaniel wavered, and Sie
nna gasped. Desmond moved forward, wrapping his arm around his former Tiro's waist.

  “Fine, eh?”

  “Black Caesar is dead,” Nathaniel said, his voice cracking. He cleared it, watching intently. “There's no way people still work for him. That was one-hundred years ago.”

  “And yet, that is his mark,” Devon crouched by one of their bodies. “Without a doubt. We learned about it a few years ago. Kierry, you should have just taken that course?”

  “Oh yeah,” Kierry replied as she looked closer.

  “Who’s Black Caesar?” Sienna asked, a stark reminder of the school she wasn't attending.

  “He's a bounty hunter,” Desmond spoke up. “One of the most famous, and the most...interesting. He believed that witches were the scum of the universe and that he was cleaning up the planet by getting rid of them, starting with the most powerful. He was funded by groups who believed similar things.”

  “They killed witches just for the sake of it?”

  “Because they had beliefs of a universe that is obviously very different from ours,” Desmond reminded her, forever trying to teach her a world without evil. “But he is most certainly dead. And Reynolds' beliefs are very different from Black Caesar's, so I don't think for a moment that they would be working together, if Black Caesar was even alive.”

  “Well, things just got more complicated,” Sybil answered. “Come on, Nathaniel. Let's get you some help.”

  “Uh huh,” Nathaniel said, and Desmond raised his eyebrow.

  “I may carry Sienna here and again, but you're a bit big, my Tiro.”

  “I was hoping for old times' sake,” Nathaniel answered, but he managed the steps by himself.

  “Can you make it?” Sybil teased him as they got back, opening the door.

  “Getting lazy in my old age?” Nathaniel answered, as Sybil went to get the medical kit.

  “Are you all right?” Devon asked Sienna quietly as they drew back from the chaos.

  “Me?” she asked in surprise.

  “Well, if I found out I was being hunted by a team of international bounty hunters, I'd probably be pretty shaken up. It'd also be an ego boost,” Devon tried to smile.

  She shrugged. “I just….” She sighed. “I'm used to things like that. Not bounty hunters, but being different. Being studied. Being watched and looked at.”

  “Of course, you're used to being looked at,” Devon's voice was so low that no one else could hear it. “You're beautiful.”

  Her head swiveled toward his, and he smiled, squeezing her hand. She let him keep her fingers wrapped in his, and her mind whirled.

  That night, when she was supposed to be sleeping, she crept into Devon's room, closing the door with a click.

  He jerked up with a start, his eyes flying open.

  “What the…? Sienna?” he said. “Are you all right?” He was stunned that she had escaped the watchful gaze of her Maestros. The one that was supposed to be watching her at night, Devon realized, was likely out cold.

  “This is my fault, though,” she said, and he paused.

  “What is your fault?”

  “Nathaniel being captured. They wanted me. He was bait. It's my fault.”

  “Oh, Sienna,” Devon said as he sat up. “They want you for something you can't control. That's not your fault. And Nathaniel knew exactly what he was doing when he took you on.”

  “Except, he didn't,” she sat at the edge of his bed. “Desmond made him.”

  Devon reached out to brush her hair back. “Everything you are saying is true,” he replied. “But that doesn't make it your fault. It makes you amazing–so amazing and so strong. Creator, if I had a tenth of the power you have….”

  “It doesn't make it better,” she answered. “It won't make you better.”

  “No,” he managed a smile. “But I would have so much fun while I had it.”

  She smirked at that. “You always make me smile.”

  “The greatest reward,” he said, as he reached for a sweater. “Are you tired?”

  “No,” she said, watching him. “Why?”

  “You can see the stars here like no other place,” he replied. “It's like the planet is positioned perfectly. It's beautiful; you should see it.”

  “Right now?” she asked, in surprise. “Outside?”

  “Usually the place where you see the stars,” Devon answered sarcastically as his feet hit the floor. “Come on.”

  “Devon, Nathaniel just got kidnapped, and they are after me. And Reynolds–”

  “Sienna,” he grabbed her hand, “all those things are true as well. But you and I…we don't have a lot of time to wait for the safe moments, do we?”

  She was taken by his eyes, his smile, and it was all he needed to pull her through the maze of hallways.

  It was just as beautiful as he had described. She gasped as she looked up, thousands of stars twinkling above them. She had never seen anything like it–so clear. She was sure that she could see at least three galaxies shining above her.

  “Wow,” she said, leaning against Devon as they stood in silence. The door was open, and they were barely outside. It was as dangerous as she was willing to get, and yet, it was worth it.

  “What gets me,” he said, putting an arm around her as she shivered, “is seeing all these stars, planets, space, all those worlds out there–so many possibilities. So much life.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked, confused.

  “There are millions of lifeforms up there,” he said. “And each of them living a different life, doing a different thing. There are so many paths, you can't count them. They are anything they want to be.”

  It sunk in as she leaned against him.

  “And we can't.”

  “Not really,” he said softly. “We were born witches so that's what we must be. Unless….”

  Her head whipped toward him. “Devon, you aren't thinking about Reynolds' path.”

  “No!” he said quickly. She didn't actually think that was the case, but she had to be sure. “No, not at all. Just that there are different paths out there. Where medical treatments aren't timed with missions; where classes aren't streamed into the med bay. And where your Maestro isn't your only family. Can you imagine?”

  She couldn't. But staring into his eyes, she saw a glimmer of what could be.

  “Maybe,” she said. It was easy to say that, standing just a few meters from her sleeping Maestros, their safe magic still feeding her veins, and Devon's arm around her. She didn't have to imagine being alone, nor did she want to.

  “Maybe,” he said with a smile. “Maybe is good enough for me.”

  She lay her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes as they stood under the stars for another few moments. Soon, her shivering grew intense, and he brought her back inside, both of their thoughts a million miles away.

  “I'm just going to get something to eat,” Sienna said, and Devon kissed her on the cheek as he went to his room. She paused in kitchen, searching through the sack left on the table. She was tempted by the fruit on the table, but knew it would likely end badly.

  It was while she was reading the ingredients on a bag of processed food that she saw the communication screen flicker.

  A message had come through, and from what she could tell, it wasn't coded. Her fingers paused at opening the bag, knowing that she really shouldn't access a message without her maestros. But curiosity got the better of her, and she hit the screen.

  A man's shape filled the screen, his face hidden, and his voice technologically blurred.

  I hear that Desmond is in your camp. Bring him to me, for we have much to say. You will be rewarded. His Tiro's strength is too dangerous for him. His best interests are in my heart.

  The message cut off, and Sienna felt her heart rate go through the roof. Was that Reynolds, reaching out to Sybil?

  She felt her hand start to tremble as she replayed the message. It was too blurred to figure out who it was.

  But whoever it was, it was clearly
coming from Reynolds' intentions. She would go with Desmond, she knew, and she instantly felt guilty about it.

  Would Reynolds want Desmond if she wasn't at his side? Was this going to be a repeat of today? First, one Maestro, and then the other?

  Chapter 11

  “It is Reynolds,” Sybil said the next morning at the crack of dawn. The first thing she did when she got up was check for messages. “He's afraid of people knowing his identity, but those on the inside know exactly who the messages come from.”

  “So, it's time,” Desmond said as he leaned against the small breakfast table. Nathaniel, looking pale, but alert, beside him, leaned forward. “Don't even think about it,” Desmond answered, without looking at his former Tiro. “You can't protect us if you come with us, and you know it right now.”

  Nathaniel traded a glance with Sienna who was watching him across the room. She was picking at her food, her anxiety through the roof. Yesterday had clearly shaken her up, and being separated from Nathaniel for an unknown period of time was throwing all those feelings back through her. It had taken her so long to feel useful, to feel wanted and strong as she found her place in the world, especially beside her younger Maestro.

  “Besides,” Desmond went on, “if Reynolds sees you, he'll know that something is not right. You are devoted to the magic, Nathaniel. Everyone knows that.”

  “And you're not?” Nathaniel raised an eyebrow. Sybil tensed, but said nothing. She felt Desmond's pain every time he mentioned Reynolds. But now, she also felt him longing for times that were past, filled with regret in the way the situation was handled.

  “Of course, he is,” Sybil spoke up. “He just doesn't wear it on his sleeve as you do, Nathaniel.”

  Nathaniel glanced to her, but dismissed the thought, turning to Sienna. “And you, Tiro? Can you play the part?” he asked evenly.

  She cleared her throat. “Yes.”

  “And if Reynolds asks?” Desmond said. “What will your reason be?”

  “That I no longer wish to be a burden,” she answered. “Acheronian Magic does not require a Maestro-Tiro system, and is fueled by desire, not the burden of protecting the universe.”